


There's a love I've been keeping inside;

by kirargent



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Crushes, Everyone Loves Hunk, Hilarity Ensues, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, POV Alternating, Realization, Self Confidence Issues, Space Flight, Team as Family, Training, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/pseuds/kirargent
Summary: Keith thinks, utterly certain of himself: Lance likes him, too. Lance likes Hunk, too.And that’s just fucking annoying. Leave it to Lance to make Keith’s life even more complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't include a warning tag for internalized homophobia because I think it's p subtle and not particularly upsetting in this fic, but if that's something you're very sensitive to, please click the link just below here to read the notes at the end of the fic for slightly more specific details.
> 
> nb pidge is cool but pls let trans girl pidge into ur heart, i used she/her in this one because [peace sign emoji] Let Pidge Be Butch And Still A Girl.
> 
> Title from "Seeing Stars" wink wink because they're in space thank you.

Keith looks mad. That’s not unusual for Keith, and wouldn’t necessarily concern Lance, except that Keith is headed right this way, his jaw set determinedly.

Uh oh.

“Well,” Lance says. “It’s been good, Pidge.” He unfolds himself from the floor and shoots her a double finger-gun.

Pidge is only half-listening as she taps away at her tablet. She nods and hums distractedly at him.

“I need a shower, but we’re going to figure this out.”

Now Pidge looks up. “Look,” she says seriously, pushing up her glasses with a fingertip. “I will get _Mercury Gameflux Two_ working on this ship, or I _will_ die trying.”

Lance grins. He doesn’t doubt her sincerity. “That’s my Pidge.” And now Keith is really nearly here, so Lance gives Pidge a last waggle of his fingers, and he skedaddles.

Keith catches up with him in the hallway. “Lance,” he says.

Lance keeps walking.

“I have a question.”

Lance keeps heading for his room, giving Keith only a brief glance. “What kind of question is making you look so pissed, man?”

Keith scowls, which makes Lance grin.

“Look,” Keith says flatly. “Do you know—Do you think.”

Lance raises his eyebrows.

“Is Hunk into guys?”                                                                               

Lance stops walking.

Keith stops, too. His arms are crossed; he stares at Lance levelly.

“Is Hunk—Is he— _What_?”

Keith rolls his eyes. The turquoise glow of the hall lights colors his skin. “You heard me.”

Lance did hear him. It’s just that he…hasn’t thought about that question. He opens his mouth to say, “what” again, but stops himself. “Uh.”

Is Hunk into guys? Lance doesn’t know. Why would he know? It’s not important information for Lance. Lance is into guys, but Hunk probably isn’t, and anyways, Hunk’s like the best dude he knows, so it’s not like Lance would have a shot even if he did—

And okay, why is his brain even going there? Hunk is Lance’s best friend. And he probably doesn’t like guys. And it’s not important to Lance one way or the other.

“Um,” Lance says. “I don’t know, dude. Why don’t you ask him?” He pulls a face at Keith (who continues to glare at him silently), and hightails it for his room, and his shower, where no one’s around to ask him ridiculous questions.

 

Lance showers, which is nice. The water always clears his head.

Then he gets out of the shower, and he nearly squeezes face moisturizer onto his toothbrush, because his head gets right back to being not-clear as soon as he’s out of the shower.

Why doesn’t he know if Hunk is into guys?

How does Lance not have this information? He’s been Hunk’s best friend since they were roommates at the Garrison—Lance walked in, immediately smelled the contraband pizza Hunk had smuggled from the cafeteria, and begged a slice from his new friend. They’d bonded over broken rules, homesickness, long conversations about favorite family recipes, and angsty evenings following day after day of hard training. But they hadn’t—they hadn’t talked about relationships, somehow.

And now Lance is seriously wondering, _how_? How doesn’t he know if Hunk is into dudes? Why hasn’t he investigated beyond the casual jokes about how good Hunk must be with the ladies?

This is—this a huge problem. Does Hunk like guys? _Does he?_ How the fuck does Lance not know the answer to this question?

“Oh, quiznak,” Lance says around a mouthful of toothpaste. The word doesn’t feel strange leaving his tongue anymore, not like it did when he first adopted it into his vocabulary of curse words.

Lance spits his toothpaste.

He only needs to know because Hunk is his best friend. This is information a best bud has got to have. Lance has failed in his buddy duties—he’s missing crucial intelligence related to Hunk, the greatest friend and greatest guy on any planet.

That’s the only reason Lance is so worked up about this—it’s just weird that he, as Hunk’s best friend, doesn’t know the answer to Keith’s question.

Yeah.

Lance swishes a mouthful of water around vigorously.

Anyway, this is a problem easily remedied, right? He’ll just ask Hunk tomorrow. _Hey, buddy. Are you into dudes? How do I not know this about you?_ He’ll give Hunk a one-armed hug and his biggest obnoxious grin, and then the world will be correct once more.

Lance goes back to his bedtime routine with more focus than before. He’s got a plan to solve this problem. And he really doesn’t want to slather on toothpaste instead of his face mask.

 

“Hunk!” Lance calls, jogging through the common area to catch up with his friend. They fall into step side-by-side.

Hunk takes the hallway towards the training deck, and Lance moves in a little closer to him to walk abreast in the hallway.

“What’s up, man?” Hunk gives Lance an easy smile. Everything between them is easy. It always has been.

(So why does Lance’s stomach feel like Blue just took him on an unprompted loop-the-loop?)

Lance takes a breath. _What’s up? Do you like guys, do you, I really have to know, please tell me, it’s killing me, dude, why don’t I know the answer to this already, do you do you do you_ —

“Are you into dudes?” Lance bumps his shoulder into Hunk’s broad arm, tacking on an easy smile. “I realized I don’t know if you are. And it’s bugging me, man.”

There: nice and casual.

Lance stops himself from scowling. Why wouldn’t he sound casual? This _is_ casual. He’s just asking his buddy a question.

Except Hunk is—staring at him, now. Lance’s insides squirm.

“What,” Lance says.

Hunk laughs a little, looking forward again as they walk. “Nothing, it’s just—seriously, dude? I spent the whole first month we knew each other flirting with you like crazy. Did you seriously think I was just joking, or something?” Hunk’s grin is widening now; he chuckles as he tugs an elastic band from his wrist and combs his hair back into a tiny knot. “Wait, I bet you did. Oh my god, Lance.” He nudges Lance’s arm. “For such a caring guy, you can be pretty oblivious, you know?”

Lance stops in his tracks. “Hey!” he says, half strangled. Hunk keeps heading for the training deck doors. “I’m not—caring! How dare you, man! I’m a tough dude who doesn't have feelings!”

Hunk snorts loudly, which makes Lance grin. Okay, so they both know that’s a load of Yalmor shit.

“Whatever, man,” Hunk calls over his shoulder. “Anyway—yeah. I definitely like dudes, buddy.”

The double doors whoosh-and-click shut behind his wide shoulders.

Lance stares at them, frozen in place.

 

The water of the castle-ship’s pool is waist-deep, and it’s cold when Lance jumps in. He squeezes his fists and clenches his jaw, making an agonized face that would definitely make Pidge laugh, if Lance weren’t alone in the pool.

Lance makes a pained noise through his teeth, hops up and down a few times, and submerges himself in the chilly water.

He’s the one who set the temperature—he’s the one who uses the pool regularly, and once he’s moving he’ll be warmer, and the cool water will feel nice against his skin. But like—getting in always _sucks_.

Still, the cold helps unfog his mind, and once he’s stroked his way through a few laps, the chill begins to drain away and the familiar rhythmic motions do their calming work.

This is good. Swimming always helps him get his head straight.

Hah. Okay, that’s funny. Lance and straight in the same sentence. Lance is, frankly, hilarious. A joy. You’re welcome, all of Lance’s friends.

This is good. Swimming is nice. Lance lets his mind sink into focusing on his technique, extending his arm, flattening his hand, dragging through the water in a long stroke.

He glides to the end of the pool, pulling hard with his arm, tucking his legs to his chest and flipping neatly to push off from the wall.

He smiles a little, easing into another lap. He’s sure glad Pidge and Hunk made this ridiculous upside-down Altean pool usable.

Lance complained about it to Hunk, who looked thoughtful, and said he could probably reverse the gravity in the room so that not just the water was upside-down, but any people in the room would be, too, and then they could actually _use_ the stupid thing. At the mention of tinkering with Altean tech, Pidge materialized from nowhere like a cat hearing a can of food, and the two of them solved Lance’s problem in less than an hour.

That Hunk. Brilliant, and then massively kind just to top it all off. He’s seriously like the best guy Lance knows.

And quiznak, he’d been focused on swimming, but now he’s thinking about Hunk again. And how super great he is. And how he apparently wasn’t joking all those times he used to flirt with Lance?

Holy crow. Like, seriously. Lance doesn’t know what to do with this information.

Lance tips his head to the side and breathes quickly, the air warm against his face after the chill of the water.

Hunk likes guys. And Hunk used to flirt with _him_ , and he maybe at least partly meant it. And Lance…well, he likes Hunk, of course. Duh—Hunk’s his best friend.

But that’s all, right? They’re friends.

Lance goes through the motions of another flip turn mechanically, distracted.

If Lance gets upset when he feels like he’s not as important in Hunk’s life as he wants to be, it’s just because Lance is a clingy friend. If Lance spends a lot of time thinking about Hunk being really great, that’s just because, duh, Hunk is objectively an awesome dude. And if Lance thinks about Hunk liking guys, maybe liking a guy who’s not Lance, and if that kinda makes him feel sick—that’s just… him being a needy friend, right?

Lance turns his head for a breath. His steady strokes speed up a little.

It’s fine; he knows Hunk cares about him. It just might be nice if there was some kind of relationship where you told your friend how much you cared about them, and they agreed that you were a high priority for them, too, like in a different way from their other friends, and—

Wait.

 _Wait_.

Lance’s feet drag against the tiled bottom of the pool as he stops in place. He inhales water as he comes up, misjudging the depth.

He coughs four times, hard.

“What,” he says, throat thick, “the _shit_.”

 

Lance is spiraling out of control.

No, like—he’s actually, seriously spinning wildly towards the castle’s particle barrier. He’s pulling back hard on the controls, but Blue can only respond so fast. He really miscalculated how much control he’d have when they were _spinning_ like this.

“Lance?” Shiro yells.

Lance grits his teeth. “How’s it hanging, Shiro?” he calls, trying for cocky rather than panicked. “Come on,” he mutters to Blue. “Come on, come on, come on, baby.”

They make it. Sort of. They like, skid against the particle barrier for several solid ticks, Lance’s face screwed up tight and Blue channeling displeasure through their mental connection.

Lance winces. “Sorry.” They wheel clear of the barrier, jetting out into open space.

Allura’s doing that thing she loves where she shoots at them all aggressively from the safety of her castle, and they have to fly around desperately to dodge her attacks. Today, Coran also has them practicing maneuvering with only partial control over their lions—he’s somehow gotten the lions to lean into a downward spiral without warning, or to list randomly to one side. It’s really freaking annoying.

Lance says as much. Okay, yells as much.

“Yeah, Lance, we _know_.” Keith’s tight-jawed comment cuts off as he grunts; Lance sees Red leaning oddly to one side. “Complaining about it and distracting the rest of us doesn’t help!”

Lance makes a face and assumes a high, whiny tone. “Complaining isn’t helpful, Lance. I can’t fly if you’re distracting me, Lance. Don’t distract me from my angst, Lan—”

Hunk interrupts him. “Hey, uh. Guys?”

Lance shuts up immediately, scanning Blue’s monitor for Hunk’s location.

“Yeah, buddy. You okay?”

“Yeah. Just—do you think you could knock it off? That… _is_ pretty distracting, Lance.”

Embarrassment swoops in Lance’s stomach, which he ignores. “Right. Yeah. Sorry, Hunk.”

He glances over at Red again, then takes off after Shiro to cover him as he struggles to navigate a lion that’s suddenly acting top-heavy.

Lance feels…off. And it’s not due to Blue deciding to tip sideways on him randomly, although that doesn’t exactly help.

It’s Hunk. Who likes guys. Who used to flirt with Lance. Who Lance maybe kind-of really likes. Like, _like_ -likes. Like, a lot.

Lance shakes his head to clear it, which doesn’t actually help. Blue sends him a feeling of amusement, which she’s been doing all day now.

“Shut up,” Lance tells her in a mumble, but there’s no force behind it.

He glances at Hunk and Yellow, who look a little overwhelmed avoiding a targeted burst of shots from Allura. Something heavy in his chest, Lance spins Blue in the opposite direction, zipping after Pidge instead.

 

Allura keeps them working until well after they’re all exhausted, because she wouldn’t be Allura if she didn’t. She welcomes them back inside with a dazzling smile, however, and says she’s pleased with their progress, and honestly, Lance is pretty sure the whole team thinks that made the whole day worth it, if their smiles and straightened shoulders are anything to go by.

“I’ve laid out dinner for you,” she tells them, her eyes sparkling warmly. “Excellent work today, paladins.” She claps her hands together and heads for the dining room, not waiting for the paladins tug off their helmets and stretch after sitting stationary in their pilot seats all afternoon.

“Hey, nice job today, Lance.” Hunk’s smile is warm and familiar, and so is the arm he slings around Lance’s shoulders to squeeze him in a half-hug.

Lance figures he can blame his rapid heart beat on the training they’ve just come from, if anyone notices. “You too, buddy,” he says, looking up at Hunk with a grin.

Hunk’s dark eyes twinkle. “I’m gonna get some food, man. Hurry up, okay?” he says, knowing Lance always likes to spend a little longer when he leaves Blue in the hangar.

“Yeah, sure thing,” Lance says, and gives his friend an easy smile before shifting his attention to his lion.

As soon as Hunk’s back is turned, Lance flicks his gaze back to Hunk. He narrows his eyes, watching Hunk fall into step beside Pidge.

Lance likes Hunk. Does Hunk like _him_? Did he stop flirting with Lance just because Lance wasn’t responding, or did he actually lose interest?

Lance rolls his lip into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Hunk nudges Pidge’s shoulder amiably with his elbow as they grow smaller down the hallway, but he doesn’t throw an arm around her like he did Lance.

Is Hunk just affectionate, or does it mean something other than that? Does he like Lance? _Does he?_ Does—

“Dude, are you okay?”

Lance blinks, pulling his eyes away from his retreating friends and glancing around the hangar. Keith stands a few feet away from him, eyebrows raised.

Lance makes himself look surprised. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Keith shrugs. “You looked…like you were thinking hard about something.” His next words are undercut by the soft upward twitch of his mouth. “It’s not a look I usually see on you, so.”

“Ha, ha,” Lance says flatly. He lets his mouth pull into a grin, scanning Keith’s face curiously. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for worrying about me, though.” He shoots Keith with a finger-gun, pats Blue lovingly on the nose, and walks backward toward the hangar exit.

Keith rolls his eyes and says in a huff, “Fine, never mind,” but just before he turns around, Lance thinks sees Keith half grinning.

 

Hunk’s whole face lights up when Lance drags his tired self into the dining room, and something warm and fluttering decides to make a permanent home in the pit of Lance’s stomach.

“Lance!”

Lance puts on a tired grin. “Hey, buddy.”

“Look, Pidge and I were messing around in the kitchen yesterday—”

Lance raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t try to make cookies again, did you?” He fakes a shudder.

“Hah,” Hunk says. “You’re hilarious.” His face brightens again almost immediately, and Lance ignores the way his stomach flips over. “No, but we _did_ get the food-goo to change color!” He holds up a spoon, upon which sits a big glop of tomato-red goop.

Lance’s stomach flips again, in an entirely less pleasant manner. He says, “Uh.”

Hunk is beaming at him; at his side, Pidge’s eyes are huge and glimmering behind her glasses.

“Why?” Lance asks eventually. “Does it—taste better?”

Pidge rolls her eyes at him. “Of course not, dummy. We didn’t change its chemical make-up, just the color.”

“Okay, so…why?” Lance asks again.

Hunk’s face falls a little. “Because…we wanted to see if we could?” He grabs a fresh spoon from the center of the table and scoops up some of the red goo. “Come on, man. Just try it.” He wiggles the spoon a little, as if enticing a pet to accept a treat.

And this is—this is nothing that they haven’t done a hundred times with each other, shared a bite of a meal or a taste of a snack. Hunk knows that a third of his fries always belong to Lance, and Lance is more than used to forking up a perfect bite of his meal to offer to Hunk for his expert opinion on the dish. But—but now Lance _knows_ , knows that Hunk likes guys and that he likes _Hunk_ , and his entire face feels hot when he lopes over to the table and takes a bite of goo directly from Hunk’s spoon.

He does his best to look calm and appraising, like he’s paying attention to the food and not, like, slowly dying inside because he doesn’t know if Hunk likes him back and Hunk just _fed him from a spoon_. “Hmm,” he says. “Tastes…just like the green stuff.”

“I know!” Hunk says excitedly, going back to his meal without batting an eye. “Isn’t it cool?”

Lance can’t help but grin, though his face still prickles all over with heat. “Yeah,” he says, amusement pulling his mouth wide. “Yeah, man, it is pretty cool.”

And, face burning, eyes flicking repeatedly back towards Hunk’s pleased face, Lance slinks to the far end of the table, ignoring the empty seat beside Hunk where he always sits. This means he ends up next to Shiro, who looks mildly confused but gives Lance a smile nonetheless, and Keith, who gives him a weird look when he comes in from the hangar a few minutes later.

After making one childish face at him, Lance ignores Keith easily.

If Keith notices that Lance’s gaze seems magnet-pulled to the opposite end of the table, where Hunk is conversing happily with Pidge, he has the uncharacteristic grace not to say anything.

 

✩ ✩ ✩

 

Keith has just guided Red through a lazy series of loops, curling closer and closer to the ground, and set her down gently on the unfamiliar moon when Hunk’s voices comes through his helmet speakers.

“Was that necessary?” he asks, voice digitized but clear.

Keith scowls. “I don’t know. Did a few corkscrews really hurt anyone?” He grips Red’s controls tighter. “And anyway, Red likes it. We’re always supposed to be bonding with our lions, right?”

Keith can nearly hear a shrug in Hunk’s voice. “Whatever, man. Me and Yellow and my digestive system have a whole different agreement going on, but whatever floats your…lion, I guess.” He chuckles a little at his own joke. Keith feels the corners of his mouth tick up.

“You and Yellow land okay?” he asks, releasing Red’s controls as her screens power down. Her jaw yawns open to let him out, and he activates the jets on his suit to float cautiously down to the rocky ground of the cold, bronze-colored moon.

Hunk’s voice filters through his helmet. “Yeah. Exiting my lion now.”

Hunk isn’t far away, checking up on the other of this planet’s two moons.

The Blade of Marmora’s information on the area indicates a lack of any lifeforms for the last two decafeebs, but Allura insisted that they confirm the intel. Long-range scanning backed up the Blade’s claim, but Allura dispatched the paladins for a final check before she would consider the system a safe one in which to linger during minor ship repairs.

Keith explores the dull, craggy surface of the moon, alternating walking and flying a few feet above the uneven surface. The terrain so far has been entirely barren.

Keith has meandered about halfway around the moon, alert for any signs of life even though it’s not seeming likely he’ll encounter any, when Hunk says in his ear, “Hey, Keith, can I ask you something?”

Keith is on alert immediately. “Did you find something?”

“Oh.” Hunk sounds embarrassed. “Uuuuh. No. Sorry to get your attention like that, man. It’s all clear over here.” He clears his throat. “All good over there?”

“Yep.” Keith jets his way over a boulder. “What’s up?”

He hears Hunk sigh.

Pidge, Lance, and Shiro are nearby, but Hunk is the only one near enough for Keith to hear without turning on long-range comms. His breathing crackles through Keith’s helmet speakers steadily.

“It’s just,” he says. “This might be kind of weird, but…well. It’s…Lance? He’s been acting…I don’t know, weird, lately. He’s been avoiding me. And I noticed you two seem to have been spending more time together, lately, so I just thought maybe you knew something?”

Hunk huffs out a little breath, and Keith imagines he must be navigating a similarly rocky terrain, wherever he is.

“I think it started after I told him—Well, he asked the other day if I liked guys, and I just. I mean, I wondered if maybe you knew about—about him? I mean, if Lance…likes guys, too, maybe.” Hunk sounds frustrated. “‘Cause all I can think of is, either he has some kind of a problem with it, which doesn’t seem like Lance or—” Hunk sighs. “Or, well. He does, too, and it—threw him to know I meant it when I used to flirt with him, you know? I don’t—I don’t know.” Hunk sighs again. “Whatever, man. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Keith realizes he’s fallen silent. “No, no, it’s fine. Really.” He kicks at a loose piece of moon-rock. “It’s just that I don’t know. About Lance, I mean. I have no idea. Sorry.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Hunk says easily, always steady and reassuring.

“Hey,” Keith says. “Sorry I couldn’t help out.” He really means it, is the thing. With Hunk, he really wishes he could help. He’s not great at this kind of…stuff. But he wishes there was something he could do to ease the frustration in Hunk’s tone, even if Hunk covers it up quickly and easily.

“You wanna…you wanna hang out on the training deck, later?” Keith offers, heart cramming up into his throat. He coughs a little to clear it. “Spar a little? I wanted to spend some time working with a shorter blade today.”

“Oh,” Hunk says, sounding legitimately surprised. That makes sense—Keith isn’t exactly known for being sociable. Still, Hunk says, “Hey, yeah! That sounds good. Thanks, man.” Keith thinks he can hear a smile in Hunk’s voice.

Something flames up hot inside his ribcage.

 

 _I meant it when I used to flirt with him_. That’s what Hunk said.

Keith doesn’t realize how hard he’s scowling until Shiro taps his shoulder as he jogs past and says, “Hey, lighten up, man. It’s just target practice.”

Allura is all the way across the huge training room, but because she has inhumanly sharp hearing, she overhears the comment and snaps, “It’s not ‘just target practice,’ Shiro, it’s practice in a controlled environment aiming at long-distance targets that in the future could be very _real_ threats, and being able to hit said threats while under pressure will be crucial to all of our survival! None of the training we do is ‘just’ practice, and frankly, I’m surprised you would say such a thing—”

Keith catches Shiro grinning as he directs his warm-up laps in Allura’s direction, doubtless excited to engage in yet another whispered argument about pushing the younger paladins too hard.

From Shiro’s face, you’d never guess he was jogging towards a disagreement and not towards his prom date. Keith smirks.

“Yeah, man.” Keith looks to his left in time for Lance to shoot him a wink. “Lighten up.” Lance hauls his bayard-blaster up into position fluidly, spends less than a tick squinting at the target, and squeezes off a blast that smacks into the center of the round bullseye.

The Altean tech absorbs the blast; the target pulses a soft, congratulatory green.

Lance hoots and kicks up a leg in celebration.

Keith grits his teeth so hard his jaw pops.

“Woo!” Hunk calls. Half of his hair falls loose around his face, refusing to cooperate with the hairband that ties back the rest of it. A grin encompasses half of his face, but what really pulls Keith’s attention is the bright shine of his dark eyes.

Warm, lovely eyes that are gazing happily at _Lance_.

Lance sends another two blasts across the room, nailing two separate targets one after the other, and Keith watches miserably as he congratulates himself loudly on his success, spinning in a victorious circle.

Fucking _Lance_.

Lance and Pidge circle each other in some sort of dumb and bizarre happy-dance, slapping each other high-five before returning to their practice. Keith’s sure Allura would remind them to _focus, please, paladins!_ , if Shiro weren’t occupying her attention with a hushed discussion across the room. Hunk grins at Lance and Pidge, and Keith looks away from the display with a scowl.

Keith is, he’s big enough to admit, maybe a little jealous.

Of _Lance_.

Shit.

 

Keith has been spending more “bonding time” (as Shiro calls it) with the other paladins lately, especially since Hunk’s declaration that “Galra-Keith” wasn’t so bad.

Still, a few light-hearted sparring sessions with Hunk instead of against the mechanical training gladiator doesn’t exactly make Keith feel comfortable just—barging into the room where Pidge and Hunk are hanging out. They might not want him there.

He should—ask, or something. Or maybe he should just go back to his room.

“Have you tried—”

“Just connecting wirelessly?” Pidge interrupts before Hunk has even really begun to ask. “Of _course_ I have. They can’t interface.”

Yeah, Keith should go. They’re working on that video game thing, anyway. They don’t need him for that, and it’s not like Keith has ever played _Mercury Gameflux Two_.

Pidge is still talking. “This Altean tech is so different from Earth stuff; I just can’t make them talk to each other! Wait, maybe if I…” She falls quiet for a moment. Keith hears a few blips of technology-noise.

He’s starting to step backward when Pidge says, pleased, “Yeah, there!” And then two ticks later: “NO! Oh, what the—Come on, man! Du-flaxing _quiznak_!”

Keith stumbles back a step—and his shoulder-blades bump straight into the chest of someone slinking quietly down the half-lit hallway.

Keith spins around. “Lance?” he hisses. “What are you doing here?”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “What are _you_ doing here?” he counters, matching Keith’s quiet voice. He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall. “Where did a fourteen year-old learn to swear like that, anyway?”

“Coran,” Keith answers flatly. Then: “I’m serious. What are you doing here?” He narrows his eyes. “And why are you whispering, too?” And then an idea rushes through him, and it fits so instantly into place that Keith is certain he’s right. He levels an accusing finger at Lance’s chest. “You _are_ avoiding Hunk.”

Lance blinks. “What? How do you know that?” He scowls. “I mean, ‘no, I’m not.’”

Keith rolls his eyes. “How do I know? Hunk noticed, dude.” Then he adds sharply, “He’s kind of upset, actually.”

Lance blinks again. His arms uncross slowly. “He noticed?” Lance winces. “Aw, man.” He rubs at the back of his neck.

Keith doesn’t say anything, but he hopes his narrowed eyes and crossed arms convey the message: _Yeah, you_ should _feel bad._

Lance shuffles past Keith, leaning forward to peer in the direction of Hunk and Pidge, who are still brainstorming rapidly and loudly. 

Keith’s about to snap at him to stop being such a creeper, but then Lance’s expression halts the words in his throat. Keith closes his half-opened mouth.

Lance looks…

“Gentle” might be the word. His brow is free of the angry tension it usually holds when he’s looking at Keith; his jaw is relaxed, his mouth an easy line instead of a performative cocky grin.

Keith thinks, utterly certain of himself: _Lance likes him, too. Lance likes Hunk, too._

And that’s just fucking annoying. Leave it to Lance to make Keith’s life even more complicated.

 

In the morning, Keith meets up with Hunk in the hallway en route to the kitchen, as he does nearly every morning. Lance is still in bed, Pidge is probably asleep on her tablet in a corner of the castle somewhere, and Shiro likes to check in with Allura in the mornings after he works out, leaving just the two of them.

They walk quietly, Hunk still willing away sleep, and wordlessly poke through the small assortment of unfamiliar possibly-food-ish substances that can be found in various places in the kitchen. They both always default to a bowl of trusted green food-goo, surprisingly one of the more edible-seeming options. (Hunk tinkers in the kitchen often, but not usually first thing in the morning. and honestly, they’ve all grown rather used to the squishy green stuff.)

Keith sits on the floor and stretches his legs after his morning training, and as Hunk wakes up, he begins to bounce ideas off of Keith about possible ship improvements. It’s become a routine in the last several weeks. It’s a good thing. Hunk is there to raise an eyebrow at Keith if he’s stretching more aggressively than his body can take, and Hunk’s ideas tend toward brilliance, and besides that, Hunk isn’t bad company. Keith—likes it.

Today, on standing up, Hunk catches Keith’s elbow before he can leave the room. Keith’s only wearing his t-shirt; Hunk’s hand is warm against his bare skin. Keith keeps his face still, although his cheeks feel like they’re burning. This breaks their routine.

“Hey,” Hunk says. “Uh. You haven’t seen Lance around in the mornings after breakfast, have you?”

“I,” Keith says. “What?”

“Never mind,” Hunk says, releasing Keith’s arm. “We usually train after breakfast, but he hasn’t been showing up.”

“But…” Keith’s mouth settles into a frown. “What are you talking about? Lance and I train together in the evenings. He doesn’t practice in the morning.”

“Uh, dude,” Hunk says, rolling his eyes as he ties back his hair. “Yeah, he does.”

“But…” Keith is still frowning. “Why? I mean, not even Shiro or I train that many extra times a day with a partner. Why would Lance?”

Hunk looks…sad, almost. He leans back against the kitchen counter; Keith realizes that he’d stopped halfway out the door, and he takes a few steps back into the room.

“Keith…Lance is always gonna know that he only made fighter-class because you dropped out, man,” Hunk says, shrugging. “And then hand-to-hand is like, your _thing_ , while it’s one of Lance’s weakest spots. I mean…that’s gotta feel bad, dude.” Hunk pushes off from the counter, passing Keith on his way to the door. “He just works hard, is all. Wants to make sure he’s a good member of the team. Maybe you should cut him a little slack, sometimes.”

Hunk leaves Keith staring wide-eyed at the kitchen counter.

 

It was nice, Keith thinks, when things were as simple as: Lance is a jerk. Lance and Hunk are close, but Lance has been jerkily avoiding Hunk, so he doesn’t deserve him, anyway.

Now things are less simple. And it’s _annoying_.

Keith blames Lance.

Conveniently, Lance is right here, and Keith’s got his bayard in-hand, and hey, he’s even _supposed_ to be hitting him.

Lance dodges Keith’s quick, hard attacks, backing up with a series of ridiculous yelps. Keith might be grinning. Oops.

“Well, that’s just—”

Keith interrupts Lance’s ever-running mouth by swiping at his feet so quickly that Lance has to focus on leaping backwards instead of on talking.

“Hey!” he yips.

Keith drives him back across the training deck easily. Pidge cheers him on from her position on the floor. Lance has a blade of his own, but he’s using it mostly to deflect Keith’s attacks.

“Come on, man—” Lance says, and cuts himself off with a hard breath as he curves his torso away from Keith’s sword, countering with a blow that Keith knocks aside easily.

Keith tracks Lance’s feet as well as his hands, watching when Lance steadies himself and shifts his weight to his left foot. His right shoulder rises at the same time—he’s going to distract Keith with his blade while he goes for his feet. Keith smiles lightly.

Then he remembers Hunk saying, “Maybe you should cut him a little slack,” and without really thinking, he makes a split-second decision. He lets Lance hook his ankle and send him crashing to the floor.

The breath is forced out of him; he fills his lungs again with a painful gasp.

Lance’s gleeful expression is shaped with undertones of astonishment. “Woo!” he cries, pumping his fists upward.

Keith rolls his eyes, but he can feel himself grinning as he sits up.

“Yeah,” he says, “whatever. You got me once, tough guy. Big deal.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lance says. “Fine, let’s go again!” He sticks out a hand, the movement so natural that it catches them both off guard.

They both stare at his extended hand for a moment.

Swallowing, Keith grips Lance’s gloved hand in his own, weirdly conscious of the fact that they don’t usually help each other up.

Pidge says, “Hey, no going again! I called fighting the loser!”

Keith snorts, dropping Lance’s hand, watching Lance’s curiously impassive face carefully.

“Right,” he says. “Sorry, Pidge.” He smirks at Lance. “He’s all yours.”

Lance sticks out his tongue. Keith is laughing as he leaves the training deck.

 

“Hunk,” Lance says, his eyes closed. “I love you, man.”

And that’s just—not okay.

“Seriously, Hunk,” Keith says, shoving at Lance’s leg where he’s perched on the dining table. “This is—” He gestures at the bowl of…well, whatever it is, with his spoon. It’s pink, and sort of fizzes and melts in his mouth, and it’s sweet. “Like, maybe the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

“Aw, you guys.” Hunk is beaming, though he looks a little embarrassed. “You don’t have to say that.”

Lance kicks Keith’s chair. “No, man, I mean it. This is so good, dude.”

Keith glares at Lance. “ _So_ good.”

Keith stands up—taking his bowl of sweet pink dessert with him—for the sole purpose of moving closer to where Hunk stands at the end of the table, still with an apron looped around his waist. He puts himself between Hunk and Lance, scooping up another bite. “Seriously, man. Thanks for making this. Is there…” He cranes his neck in the direction of the kitchen. “Is there…more of it?”

Lance leaps from the table. “Dude, if there’s more of this, _you_ are not having it, _Keith_.”

Keith grits his teeth. “Oh, yeah?”

Lance narrows his eyes. In a disgusting display, he finishes Hunk’s dessert in a few large bites and sets his bowl down with a clatter. “ _Yeah_.”

“Um, guys?” Hunk says, sounding nervous. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my dessert—like, really, I am, but. Please don’t kill each other?”

“Fine,” Lance snaps, his sharp gaze not leaving Keith. Still scowling, he retrieves his spoon from his discarded bowl and steps closer to Keith. Keith doesn’t move.

Looking remarkably angry for a guy eating something so pink, Lance has the nerve to stick his spoon into Keith’s bowl and steal a bite of Keith’s dessert.

“Lance,” Keith says calmly. Lance holds Keith’s eyes as he licks his spoon clean. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

Lance’s mouth spreads in a grin. “Knew you’d been dying to see the inside of my room, hotshot.”

Keith narrows his eyes. Lance’s grin gets wider.

Lance is standing…really close to him. Keith can see a barely-there constellation of freckles across his cheeks. He would bump into Lance if he so much as half-lifted an arm.

And he can see the exact moment that Lance realizes how close they are, too. At his own teasing words, Lance’s face goes still, his grin frozen, although it doesn’t fall away.

Keith thinks, suddenly, _I wonder if his mouth tastes like Hunk’s dessert_.

“There is more, you know,” Hunk says, cutting through the sudden quiet. “You guys don’t have to fight it out for Keith’s last bite.”

Lance abruptly steps away. Keith feels like the floor has vanished from beneath his feet.

“Hunk,” Lance says dramatically, throwing his arms around Hunk’s thick shoulders and letting his body sag. “Hunk, my beautiful bestest friend. The rest of that stuff is _mine_.”

Keith looks at Lance, clinging to Hunk’s shoulders, and he looks at Hunk, smiling down faintly at his friend, and he thinks, _oh my God, I’m not only jealous of_ one _of them_.

 

When Keith’s comms come back up, the first thing he hears is Pidge.

She says, “ _Keith_ ,” and she says it in a cracking little voice that Keith’s only heard once before, accidentally walking by while she was talking to Shiro about her brother.

Keith feels her say his name like a smack in the chest.

She was—worried for him.

“What the hell happened, Keith?” Shiro’s voice is calm and commanding, but Keith hears a thread of worry, too.

“I—I don’t know,” he manages, adjusting his hands on Red’s controls. “All my communications cut out. I couldn’t hear you guys. I don’t know what happened; do you think the Galra could’ve interfered with our tech, somehow?”

Yellow and Green ease into position on either side of Red as they glide back towards the castle.

“Maybe,” Shiro says.

Lance’s voice is quick and higher-pitched than normal. “Whatever it was, you can’t just attack a whole Galra fleet by yourself, Keith!”

“My comms were down,” Keith says stubbornly.

“No, Lance is right,” Shiro says. Keith scowls. “I don’t care what happened—you can’t endanger yourself like that, Keith.”

Keith steers Red back to the castle. Her flight isn’t as level and effortless as usual; she lists slightly to the left after the battering she just took.

Keith grumbles, “Yeah, whatever, Shiro.” But he hears Hunk sigh quietly several times before they make it to the hangar, and Lance won’t stop muttering curse words in a variety of languages, and Pidge’s breaths are undeniably shaky. Shiro’s stern silence isn’t great, either.

Things feel, in that moment, very, very clear.

Keith can’t splinter this team apart. He can’t. He _won’t_.

He can’t be with Lance when he has feelings for Hunk. He can’t be with Hunk when he knows about Lance’s feelings, and he knows Lance already feels like he’s second-best, not to mention Keith’s own feelings being torn. And if he messes things up between the three of them, Shiro will be so disappointed in him, not to mention _Allura_. And Pidge…God, if he breaks up the team that’s become a family for them both, Pidge will never speak to him again.

At the edges of his mind, Keith feels Red push her feelings at him. There’s a pinch of shared sadness, but she also echoes his resolve to protect the team.

Then she sends him a burst of sentiment so strong—and so unusual, for her—that it makes Keith’s eyes sting and his throat feel stupidly hot. The feeling is starry, wide open skies; fast, reckless loops of flight; a warm planet far away with no one around but the two of them.

If Keith had to put the feeling into words, it would be something along the lines of _I’m always with you, small one_.

Keith guides her back into the hangar, and he tries to smile when Hunk crushes him in a relieved hug.

 

✩ ✩ ✩

 

Hunk has loved space since he was little. He remembers lying on his back outside on a warm night, his big sister at his side, and following the line of her pointing finger as she drew his attention to the constellations.

Then he got older, and he began to love the small-scale, mechanical workings of space. He loves to read about the gaseous make-up of an unfamiliar planet; he loves tracing his fingers over the elegant design-drawings of rocket engines.

It’s the little, practical, tangible way that things work that Hunk loves most of all—and he thinks that this, maybe, is why the small, unremarkable way that Keith’s calves are resting easily across Hunk’s thighs makes his pulse shiver more than any big, dramatic moment of flight or space-battle.

“Hunk?” Keith says, not looking away from the book he’s holding up over his face, paging through it slowly. The book is Coran’s, technically, but more recently it’s been living on the shelf in Hunk’s room. “Thanks, man.”

Hunk hums an easy acknowledgement to this, letting his head lean back against the leg of Keith’s lion. He’s spent the afternoon fixing her up after Keith’s recent head-butt with an entire Galra fleet; Coran will insist on looking her over again himself later, but as far as Hunk can tell, Red should be flying as good as new.

That Keith wanted to come watch, learn, and help was a surprise, but only a slight one—Keith’s been spending a lot more time with the team recently, Hunk has noticed. He’s pretty sure it’s a conscious effort; the dude is trying, like, really hard.

Honestly, it’s super endearing.

“Hey,” Hunk says lazily, letting his hands fall to rest on Keith’s shins.

Keith lifts his head from the floor at the contact; he glances at Hunk’s hands, seems to decide that he’s okay with this, and lets his head fall back once more. He sets the book down on the floor, folding his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. The book’s in Altean, anyway; Hunk is trying to learn the language, but mostly he’s just been looking at the technical drawings, himself.

“You wanna hang out with me and Pidge on the training deck, later? We’re gonna work on target practice, so I figure you won’t be, you know, too far out of our league.”

Keith lifts his head again, looking at Hunk like he can’t decide if he’s being criticized. Hunk gives him a slight smile. The expression that blooms across Keith’s face in return as he decides he’s not being ridiculed is—really something to see. His smile is slow, but just seems to grow and grow and grow once it’s begun.

He says, sounding happy, letting his head rest down again, “Thanks, dude. That sounds—really great.”

Hunk smiles, letting his eyes drop closed.

He likes this, he thinks. He likes it a lot.

He says, because the thought crosses his mind and he’s feeling relaxed and comfortable here with just Keith, “It’s a good thing our giant lions aren’t like, actual cats, man. Imagine the size of their litter boxes.”

There’s a moment of quiet.

Hunk cracks his eyes open.

Keith is half-sitting up, leaning back on his elbows. He blinks a few times, blank faced, and then grins.

“Dude, where did that thought even come from?” His grin is getting wider. “Oh, my god,” he says. He starts to laugh.

“I don’t know, I was just thinking about it,” Hunk says, pleasantly surprised as Keith drops back to the floor, his torso shaking with soft chuckles. “And you just _know_ Coran would make us clean up after them.”

Keith’s mouth opens as he laughs harder, his nose crinkling as his hands come to rest on his stomach.

Hunk is mildly aware that he’s beaming. He loves when Keith laughs like this.

At a noise from the hangar door, Hunk looks up. He’s in time to see Lance turning around to leave, but not in time to call out to him.

Hunk’s smile fades a few notches.

 

“Hunk!” Lance is coming down the hallway towards him at a run. “Dude! You’ll never guess what just happened!”

Lance’s grin is both radiant and contagious.

Smiling, Hunk says, “Okay, what happened?”

Lance reaches him and skids to a stop. “Me and Blue just beat Keith!”

Hunk raises his eyebrows, still smiling. “What?”

Lance bounces lightly on his toes. “We were out flying—me and Keith—and I said I’d race him back in, and dude, we beat him! We beat the ‘fastest of the lions’ red lion!”

Hunk can’t help but grin, wondering with mild curiosity whether or not Keith really wanted to win that race. “Yeah?”

Lance looks like he could explode with joy. “Yeah!” He flings out his arms dramatically, and Hunk obligingly wraps him in a hug and gives him a celebratory spin. Lance hoots his triumph loudly in Hunk’s ear, which somehow never manages to make Hunk enjoy the moment any less.

Over the last week or so, Hunk has been forming two theories related to Lance.

One theory has to do with Keith. It has to do with extra flying sessions before bed; it has to do with the way Keith has started to suggest a round of long-range target practice to boost Lance’s mood after a bad match of hand-to-hand; it has to do with the way Lance has started to say “Come on, Keith!” before Keith can start to look like he’s wondering if he should hang out with the team or retreat into his room. It has to do with the way Lance can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands whenever Keith’s smirk is directed at him.

The other theory is what compels Hunk to keep his arms around Lance’s narrow frame for longer than normal once they’ve spun around in a full victory circle. He keeps his face calm, smiling lightly at Lance as they stop. He’s usually ever so slightly taller than Lance, but lifting Lance up like this, their eyes, noses, mouths, are neatly aligned.

Lance’s grin doesn’t slip, but his eyes do widen a little. Hunk is treated to the delightful sight of a faint pink burning under Lance’s cheeks.

Hunk thinks _quiznak, he’s cute_ , and then, _hypothesis: confirmed. Adorably confirmed_.

 

It’s Pidge’s idea.

She shows up at Hunk’s bedroom door after midnight—her usual waking hours—with a big grin and the most ridiculous pair of fuzzy green socks that Hunk has ever seen. She says, “Dude. Remember Coran trying to get around the castle when he had the Slipperies? I have an idea.”

So if Allura catches them and they get in trouble, it’s Pidge’s fault, really. Hunk figures he can deny his role in digging up more slippery socks and a blanket-sled, as well as enticing both Keith and Lance out of their rooms by telling them that the other has already agreed to the idea. Besides, Pidge is the one who coated the hall in some weird slippery, waxy substance that Hunk can’t bring himself to ask her about. So like, really, it’s mostly on her.

The castle’s longest hallway leads towards what Hunk considers the castle’s version of an engine room, although the Altean technology doesn’t line up exactly with Hunk’s concept of a traditional Earth engine. Allura, Coran, and Shiro’s rooms aren’t nearby—which is good, Hunk thinks as Keith careens down the hallway toward him, yelling as he goes.

It’s an angry-sounding yell, but he’s smiling, too, so Hunk figures he’s having a good time.

Naturally, Lance won’t be outdone. He grabs Hunk’s yellow blanket, takes a running start, and flings himself to the floor.

From her perch on Hunk’s shoulders where they’re both waiting at the end of the hall, Pidge cheers him on.

Lance comes skidding towards Hunk at the end of the hallway headfirst—the way he does a lot of things. Scowling, Keith takes a few running steps and propels himself faster down the hall on his practical black socks, eyes tracking Lance just a few feet behind him. Jeez, those two are competitive.

Hunk thinks, absently, that it’s kind of fascinating that both of them have been looking at him, and at each other, with a particular kind of spark in their eyes lately.

He watches Keith’s intensely furrowed brow as he focuses on maintaining his head-start on Lance; he thinks of the way Keith smiles when Hunk catches him off guard with a joke, and thinks of Lance’s easy teasing, and thinks it might be nice to have a partner in trying to lighten Keith’s mood sometimes.

He watches Lance zipping wildly towards him, eyes wide and grin sharp, and considers that it might be nice to have someone else around for Lance to expend his energy on, and an extra person to remind Lance of his strengths when he’s feeling extraneous.

The both of them are coming at him way too fast, not in control of themselves at all anymore.

Which, of course, is why Hunk stationed himself here in the first place. Lance’s dangerous plan to slide face-first is paying off; he catches up to Keith just as they reach the end of the hallway. Lance ducks his head sideways as much as he can, his shoulders slamming into Hunk’s shin at the same time Hunk stretches out an arm to catch Keith.

Pidge snorts down at Lance.

Both Keith and Lance laugh somewhat dazedly.

Hunk says, thoughtfully, “Huh.”

 

“I can’t date you,” Lance says in a rush.

Hunk raises his eyebrows, looking up from his book. Lance looks faintly green. Hunk says, “Sorry—what?”

Lance’s shoulders sink as he releases a huge sigh. He flops back on Hunk’s bed, lanky arms splayed. Hunk grabs the pillow he’s been leaning against and throws it at Lance, but Lance just sits up and bunches the pillow up in his lap, gripping it tightly.

Hunk frowns. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

Lance sighs again, twisting his hands in Hunk’s pillow. “I…like you,” he admits to the pillow. “And—and I’m not sure if you feel the same, but either way, I can’t date you, buddy.” Lance punches the pillow gently. “Not when you could find someone way better than me. I mean, you’re so great, Hunk, and I’m just—me,” Lance says flatly. “And there’s gonna be—somebody else out there. Like, somewhere in space. Really far away, probably. Definitely not—on this same castle-ship.

“But yeah, there’ll be someone else, and they’ll be way better than me, and I don’t wanna deprive—uh, that poor space person of getting to date you. And it’s not like you couldn’t do better than me anyway—”

“Dude,” Hunk says. “Lance. I can tell you’re trying not to give away Keith’s feelings for me, but you’re fucking awful at being subtle.”

Lance finally looks up at him from the pillow. His eyes are weird. “You know? He told you?”

Hunk snorts. “Man, he didn’t have to. Ever since we went on that Scaultrite mission, the guy blushes whenever I touch him for more than a tick. Like, he still lets me, but his cheeks get all dark. And it didn’t used to happen when we’d train.” Hunk grins. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

Lance makes a face, and Hunk grins wider.

“I kinda think the real question here, Lance, is do _you_ think Keith is cute?”

Lance throws the pillow hard at Hunk’s face, and frankly, that’s an answer.

 

“Are we doing this right?” Lance asks quietly, walking awkwardly close at Hunk’s side. “I mean. Should we have… gotten him flowers, or something?”

Hunk stops to stare at Lance. “Flowers? Where would we get flowers on this spaceship, dude?”

Lance makes a face. “Whatever. I don’t know. Never mind.”

Hunk grins. “Lance, it’s gonna be fine. We’re just going to talk to the guy.”

“Yeah,” Lance says, his fingers fluttering at his sides. “Right.”

Hunk joins Keith on one of the not-very-soft couches in the common area. Lance stands, crossing his arms and bouncing his knee.

“Hey, Keith?” Hunk says. “Do you have a second? We wanted to talk to you.”

Keith sets down his book, looking wary. He glances from Hunk to Lance. “Uh,” he says. “I guess so.”

But their free time is quickly repurposed when Allura’s voice echoes over the speakers. “Paladins! Please man your defense drones immediately! This planet appears to be sending ships to greet us, and I don’t know if they’re friendly!”

So there goes that conversation.

The three of them jog towards the control room; Keith leaves his book on the couch. Hunk pulls a hairband from his wrist, tying his hair back as he runs.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance says. His voice is high and thin. He says, in a rush, as if he’s been building up to this and wants to get it out before he changes his mind, “Me and Hunk think you like us. Like, both of us. Do you wanna, like, all make out some time?”

Hunk’s elastic band pings off the metal wall.

Keith trips and catches himself with a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “What,” he breathes, “the fuck, Lance.”

Lance says, affronted, “Dude, what?”

Allura gives them a thin-lipped glare when they reach her, and they take their positions silently.

 

It’s like, really awkward to meet up after Allura’s alarm (which proved false anyway). The three of them meander back down the hall with Pidge now tagging along.

Pidge says, “Hunk, can I talk to you?” looking serious, but Hunk doesn’t feel awesome about leaving Keith and Lance to their own devices right now.

“Can I talk to you in like…ten minutes, Pidge?” he pleads.

Behind her glasses, Pidge narrows her eyes. She looks from Hunk, to Lance, to Keith, the last two walking with hilariously similar stiff steps and tight shoulders. Pidge looks calculating.

Hunk says, “Pidge, no.”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “It’s quick, dude, I promise. I just wanted to tell you I got _Mercury Gameflux Two_ all set up and sparkling. She’s ready to go when you are.”

“Whoa, Pidge! Seriously?”

She beams. “Yup. I just had to—well, I can explain it later. I just wanted to tell you. OH! And, uh.” Pidge bites her lip.

Hunk raises his eyebrows. “Dude, what?”

Pidge screws up her face tightly and glances away. “Aaaah,” she says. “Look, don’t be like, upset, okay? It’s good news, really!”

Slimy unease curls through Hunk’s chest. “What’s good news? Why would I be upset?”

“Well…I figured out what happened to Keith’s comms the other day. It wasn’t Galra!” She hesitates. “It was—sorta. Me?”

From ahead, Lance says, “What?!”

Pidge winces. “I wanted to check something in the audio transmission tech, and I asked Hunk to grab me my helmet, and…”

And a sick feeling loops itself around Hunk’s throat. “Oh, god,” he says, understanding.

Pidge looks at the floor. “But it’s okay, because we don’t have to worry about it happening again, I just bumped the—”

“I gave you Keith’s? Not yours?”

Pidge looks at him sadly. “It’s still my fault, dude. I’m not the one who’s colorblind. I should’ve gotten my own helmet before I started poking around—Or, yeah, not messed with our suits in the first place,” she amends, catching Lance’s expression.

But Hunk is stuck on _Keith was in danger and I was part of the reason_. “Oh, god,” he says again. He manages a small laugh, but it sounds forced even to him. “I think I’m gonna throw up. Too much fancy flying, I guess.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Pidge insists.

“She’s right, man,” Lance says. “This one’s on Pidge.” He ruffles her hair to undercut his words; she scowls at this. Hunk smiles a tiny smile.

“It doesn’t even matter,” Keith adds. “I’m fine. And anyway, I’m the dumbass who chose to do something stupid when I lost communication with you guys.” His smile is small and wry. “None of that’s on you, dude.”

Hunk twists his face. “Okay—whatever. Whatever. This feels weird. Can we…talk about it later? I’m all right. Or, I will be. It’s okay.”

Lance narrows his eyes. Pidge looks at him, her eyes big and concerned behind her round frames. Keith looks serious for a moment, and then he shrugs.

“Sure, buddy.” He hits Hunk’s arm lightly. “So, uh. It’s a yes, by the way. To Lance’s earlier, really tactful question.”

Lance and Pidge say “What?” at the same time.

Hunk blinks. Then he grins, his unease fading to a gentle undercurrent. Something warm bubbles lightly in his chest.

“Yeah?”

Keith grins slyly. “Yeah.”

Lance says, “Wait,” looking rather stunned, and then Keith grips the collar of his jacket in one hand and tugs him closer to press a tick-long kiss to his fumbling mouth. It quiets him pretty effectively. Hunk laughs aloud.

Keith grins. Hunk really likes that expression on him; a warm feeling sinks and nestles in his stomach. He reaches up to touch Keith’s smile lightly with his fingertips, which makes Keith flush in a way that’s very nice.

Pidge begins to swear at them all for being “horrible.”

Lance grins, his face red.

Keith says, “Dude, it’s not my fault Lance has terrible timing.”

Hunk’s cheeks feel warm. “Sorry, Pidge.”

Pidge grumbles something about going to find Shiro, and she leaves them.

 

Keith is yelling at Lance. Again.

At Hunk’s side, Pidge lets out a long and dramatic moan of annoyance, and she tips sideways into Hunk’s arm. “I hate them,” she decides.

Shiro stands near them, his arms crossed. “Pidge? Not helping.”

Pidge makes a face, but Shiro doesn’t notice. Hunk pats her head and ignores her out-stuck tongue.

“You can’t criticize my technique just because you’re pissed you lost, Lance!”

Lance scowls, his hands finding his hips. “I only lost because you keep _cheating_. The drill is long-weapon practice, not close combat! How am I supposed to win if you keep getting in my space when that’s not even what we’re _working on_?”

“Lance,” Allura says tightly. “You need to be able to adapt to your enemy’s strategy in the middle of battle.” Keith looks smug. Allura purses her lips. “Keith. The object is to practice with a longer weapon, not to knock Lance on his ass.”

At her side, Shiro’s lips press in a thin smile. Pidge hoots. Lance and Keith both glare at Allura.

Sighing, Hunk gets to his feet. “Lance. Buddy. We all know you’re a good fighter, super smart, and an important part of the team. It’s not that big a deal if Keith is better at this, okay? You don’t have to blow up at him. And Keith, you don’t have to win _every_ round, dude. Cool it a little, maybe. You’re supposed to be practicing with a staff, not just winning by any means necessary.”

The ground manages to attract both Lance’s and Keith’s attention. Hunk rolls his eyes.

“Guys, I’m serious. Stop being ridiculous. Kiss and make up, or I swear I’m dumping both of you.”

Shiro blinks, looking mildly uncomfortable. Pidge snorts loudly. Allura looks faintly amused.

Lance still looks abashed, his eyes glued to the floor. Keith’s expression shifts into a wicked curl of a smile. He takes a step towards Lance.

Pidge whines, “Shiro, tell them to knock it the fuck off!”

Shiro looks lost.

Lance says, “Language, Pidge.”

“Bite me, Lance,” Pidge snaps.

Keith’s grin is sharp. “Yeah, Lance,” he says, tone loaded. “Bite me.”

Pidge throws up her hands. “I’m leaving,” she announces. Shiro doesn’t stop her.

“I think,” Allura says, “maybe we’ll have each of you train against an AI, for now.”

Hunk takes a scowling Lance into his arms and deposits a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re okay, dude.”

Sighing dramatically, Lance turns in Hunk’s arms so they’re facing each other. “I need a better kiss than that,” he complains. “Keith’s being a jerk.”

Keith laughs.

Hunk rolls his eyes, but he presses his lips to Lance’s soft mouth, his stomach swooping happily as Lance melts a little in his arms.

 

“I can’t believe this,” Lance says. “I seriously can’t believe this. Wait—no, yes, I can. I can totally believe it. You lived in a shack in the desert and went exploring weird caves all by yourself after you dropped out of school; this completely fits.”

“I’m gonna kick your butts,” Pidge declares happily. “It’s not even gonna be hard.”

Where Keith is sitting between Hunk’s legs, Hunk can feel his shoulders go tight. “Not gonna happen, Pidge.”

“Dude, we just established that you’ve never even played the game before because you're a ridiculous desert-hermit! Pidge is gonna whoop your ass.”

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith spits.

Lance sticks out his tongue and waggles his eyebrows. “Come make me.”

Pidge says, “ _Guys_.”

Hunk lets his chin rest on Keith’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Keith to grip the game controller along with him.

Keith says, narrowing his eyes at Lance. “Whatever. I think I’m winning right now, anyway.”

Hunk and Pidge are seated on the floor of Pidge’s room, her bed behind them to lean against. Keith sits in the V of Hunk’s legs, a controller gripped tightly in his hands. Lance has been lounging against the wall, his robe hanging open over his pajamas, but at the smugness in Keith’s voice, he pushes off from the wall and flops onto Pidge’s bed. He arranges himself so that he can lay on his stomach and wind his fingers into Hunk’s hair while he watches Pidge navigate past the start-up screen.

“Dibs on kicking Keith’s butt after Pidge,” he says, resting his sharp chin on top of Hunk’s head. Hunk wiggles until Lance moves, propping himself up on his elbows.

“No,” Pidge says. “Hunk’s playing after.”

Lance says, “What the hell, Pidge.”

Pidge smiles at him sweetly. “I love Hunk more than I love you.”

Keith laughs; Hunk can feel his back shake lightly. Lance says, “ _Ouch_. I know Hunk’s great and all, but—no, okay, that’s actually fair. You can have that one, Pidge. Hunk is the greatest. The smartest. The kindest. The most skilled.” He presses a tiny kiss to the side of Hunk’s neck, and Hunk feels his body temperature rise about ten degrees.

“Dude? No distracting me. I’m showing Keith how to play.”

“Perfect,” Lance says, and goes for Hunk’s neck like he wants to leave a mark big enough to turn Shiro purple tomorrow morning.

“Lance, _stop_!” Pidge hisses.

“Yeah, Lance,” Keith says. He tilts back lazily in Hunk’s arms, angling his head so that he can push his mouth gently to Hunk’s lips. “Stop it, Lance,” he says against Hunk’s mouth.

Hunk seconds Pidge’s command that they knock it off, but he’s smiling so widely he thinks he loses some of his authority.

Keith is a natural at _Mercury Gameflux Two_. He wins every round.

 

**Author's Note:**

> warning stuff: while he doesn't specifically deal with feelings of shame, Lance deals with some confusion about his feelings that imo is definitely related to his sexuality, considering that he's otherwise a v emotionally intelligent guy. some of his trains of thought could definitely have a No-Homo-Bro feeling to them, if you're particularly sensitive to that? He works through it & all ends up good, but! 
> 
> you guys have seen the post about hunk being colorblind right !!! (canon as far as im concerned. listen.) liiiike as cute and funny as it is to think "what if hunk is always accidentally trying to put on pidge's helmet" i lov 2 make things ANGSTIER MY GUY so.
> 
> if you giggled at how nicely the upside-down altean pool works as the setting for a scene in which lance's world flips entirely Upside-Down !! pls come talk to me because we can be nerd friends.  
> i mean u can talk to me no matter what but im still. laughing about this like a nerd who's taken 1 too many lit classes so. thats what ur getting into my guy.
> 
> thanks to navya for. flat-out giving me the idea for hunk asking keith about lance, it's. so funny and way better than my first plan, shes a star.
> 
> also u should probably know that if you enjoyed lance's big Moment of Realization.... yea that was 100% based on me realizing I like-liked my girlfriend so. lmao. poor lance i am Sorry.


End file.
